


Rude Awakening

by audreycritter



Series: Sleepless in Gotham [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Gen, Misunderstandings, Weak endings, Young!Jason, accidental injury, but nothing happens, dark nights, implied batcat physical relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreycritter/pseuds/audreycritter
Summary: Selina Kyle has a habit of creeping into Bruce's house through a window, and in her defense, it's never really been a problem before.But tonight, just about everything goes wrong.





	Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to cerusee and dawnseternallight for pre-reading!

The night was pitch black with just a sliver of early morning moon dipping down into the horizon. It was late enough to be after his usual patrol but still too early for the golden-red tinge of sunrise over the eastern skyline. To the south, the glow of window lights and dirty neon drenched the unlit buildings into even deeper shadows, like gaping holes of absence in the already dark sky.

Selina Kyle wasn’t carrying a flashlight but she didn’t need one. In the goggles she wore as part of her mask she had night vision lenses that gave her plenty of visual information about the building she was scaling.

Well, house. House she was scaling.

Mansion.

The high interior ceilings made for an expansive exterior, so by the time she was gripping the bottom of the second floor window ledge she’d aimed for, she was already fairly high off the ground. Not high by Gotham standards, but still high enough to be dangerous without any climbing equipment.

She pulled herself quietly up onto the ledge and balanced on her toes. There was a lock-pick kit in her slender wrist pockets she drew a tool from, all the while knowing that this simple lock— after the three digital security devices she’d temporarily disabled— was just a sort of game.

If he hadn’t wanted her here, she never would have made it this far. Not after the last several upgrades to the system, two of which she’d come by specifically to test for him before admitting he’d stumped her for longer than usual.

Not completely.

But _longer_.

The window latch gave way with a soft, oiled click. The window, wide and tall, swung inward like one half of a French door and she slipped over the railing and into the deeper darkness of the room.

Bruce’s form was motionless in the bed, lacking even the rise and fall of deep slumber. They’d made no formal plans but she took it as a sign that, yet again, he’d anticipated or noticed her approach. Considering she’d seen him on a rooftop not an hour ago, she doubted he’d even been in the room for very long.

Not long enough to go to sleep. She’d even been prepared to make it to the room ahead of him, in which case the plan was to curl up with a book and feign disinterest when he did arrive. The fact that this plan was foiled was a little disappointing, actually. His exasperation and longing made for a fun mix, while he stood on the threshold with his jaw muscles working and tried to decide what to do with her.

Those were some of her favorite nights because he was still unpredictable then. Sometimes, he’d ignore her in return and shower and go to bed next to her like she wasn’t there until she gave up on her end of the charade.

Sometimes, he’d climb in next to her and read alongside her.

Sometimes, he’d forgo any pretense or act.

She wasn’t sure which she liked best and that made it interesting.

But he must have been tired, to return, methodically finish up anything in the cave downstairs, and make it to the room before her. Even if by mere minutes.

The night was pleasant and she left the window cracked open as she crept across the room, quiet even now. He shifted a little in the bed, murmured something she couldn’t make out from a few feet away. It sounded open, though, not angry. Maybe a little weary.

At the edge of the massive bed, she paused. He usually slept on his back, so the fact that he was on his side and facing away was another clue that he was awake and waiting. She didn’t know what he was doing, and it occurred to her that maybe he was upset about something but she didn’t know what. As far as she knew, he’d been fairly happy recently— at odds with his oldest, but adjusting to the new presence of the younger son; no major disasters for a few weeks now.

Maybe he was waiting for the storm to break, getting tense. He was stupid like that sometimes, when things were going well.

She was stupid like that sometimes. She knew exactly what it felt like.

And in that moment, with that consideration, she felt incredibly fond of and even a little sad for him. For herself, too.

With a light step up, she knelt on the bed and the mattress barely shifted under her practiced distribution of weight.

Selina bent over and kissed him, gently, on his bare shoulder.

Her _plan_ was to either work her way up his neck toward his cheek, or down his arm and then to his hip, and then _maybe_ he’d take the hint and return the favor.

Her _plan_ went to _absolute hell_.

The moment her lips brushed his shoulder, he reacted. But it wasn’t with the welcoming whisper or acknowledgement of her presence she’d expected.

His arm swung up and she jerked back and his elbow smacked her right in the mouth. Selina was usually ready for a fight, but at that half-second she was completely off-guard. She’d even fought _him_ before, but not like this, not here.

Elbow slammed into the soft tissue of her lips and the hard jawbone underneath and it shoved her backward, off the bed.

Their mutual startled or pained yells were different in pitch but similar in volume: loud.

In a blink of an eye, she was back on the bed beside him while he sat halfway up and flickered through anger and confusion and dawning comprehension in the time it took most people to open their eyes. Selina slapped him across the shoulder she’d just kissed.

“What the hell?” she demanded, putting a hand over her face. Her lip was bleeding over her gloves and she tore them off and threw them onto the floor, feeling gingerly with her naked fingers. Her other hand ripped her mask and goggles off and they followed the gloves.

“I was asleep!” he protested, his eyes wide and startled. It was an unusual look on him. “I…why would you…”

“I thought you were awake!” she replied, just short of shouting. “I thought you knew I was here! You’re telling me you _honestly_ didn’t hear me?”

“Jay brought a cold home from school!” Bruce threw back the thin sheet; his chest was bare, but he was wearing classic, traditional satin pajama pants. It was another reminder of just how weird he was and Selina’s brain made a note to tease him later.

Later when her mouth wasn’t bleeding all over his expensive sheets.

He got up onto his knees and reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp, then leaned closer to her and gently pushed her hand out of the way.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his brow furrowed and his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline in worry. His hand cupped her chin and they sniffled in unison. Hers was mostly blood, sweet and sour and metallic all at once. “My head is congested,” he said. “Ears, too. The cold meds must have knocked me out.”

“Like you almost knocked me out?” Selina muttered sourly, her words thick over her swelling lip.

Bruce looked suitably chagrined and ashamed. There was no rebuke of her for sneaking in through the window. “I’m so sorry; how are your teeth?”

He was bending close to her mouth, shirtless in the dim light, and she ran a tongue over her teeth to prod at them for anything loose.

At that moment, the door to the hall swung open and Jason Todd was standing framed by the hall light. Selina knew because she leaned to peer around Bruce’s shoulder to check, her mouth still red with blood and tongue frozen on her upper teeth. Bruce was just turning when Jason clapped a hand over his eyes with an audible slap.

“Oh my god!” The sound poured out of him like an involuntary thing. “Oh my god, I heard…there was shouting…I thought…B, you gotta, you gotta warn…oh my god I didn’t see anything!”

Even in the pale light and the shadows, it was easy to see he was flushed bright, bright red and he reached, fumbling, for the door knob without moving his hand from his eyes. It was just beyond his grasp and his feet seemed frozen in place.

“It’s just Selina,” Bruce said, sounding helpless and embarrassed.

Selina hit his shoulder again and he winced.

“How does that make it better?” Jason demanded, his voice shrill. “I’m so sorry, I’m so…I’ve heard how you talk to her! Oh my god!”

“Nothing’s happening, Jay,” Bruce said, calmer and more in control this time. He checked her mouth again and then slid off the bed and to his feet. “Can you go get some ice?”

“Oh my god!” Jason shrieked back, giving up on the door and putting both hands over his face. “What the _hell_ is wrong with you? I’m _fourteen_! We haven’t even had the talk yet!”

“You told me you didn’t need it!” Bruce half-yelled back, and Selina bit her lip to keep from laughing at the sudden, open horror in his tone. It was a bad idea, and she hissed instead at the sudden sting of pain.

“That’s not the point!” Jason bellowed, his voice climbing into yet another higher register.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked, his attention pulled back to Selina by the hiss that escaped her.

“No,” she answered honestly. “I’m dripping blood all over your bed.”

“Oh my god!” Jason’s words were bordering on incoherent screaming. He was still rooted in the doorway.

“Jason,” Bruce said, struggling to find some calm again. “Jay-lad, nothing is going on. Go get ice.”

“Your dad hit me,” Selina said, trying to be helpful. She felt bad for the kid and Bruce was acting abruptly and totally out of his element.

“What the _fuck_ , Bruce?” Jason yelled.

“Language!” Bruce yelled back.

“What in _heaven’s name_ is going on?” A more sedate but decidedly worried voice called from down the hall. Alfred Pennyworth appeared just behind Jason, still tying the belt of a robe around his waist. “Good lord.”

The overhead light flicked on and Selina blinked in the sudden brightness.

“This…” Bruce stammered, standing in just his pants beside the bed and close to Selina. “Is not what…Al…”

“Bruce hit me,” Selina supplied cheerfully, watching the scarlet blush creep up Bruce’s neck and into his cheeks.

“Al,” Bruce said, sounding pained. He turned on Selina. “You _snuck in_!”

“I _always_ sneak in!” Her anger was swift to return.

“Oh my god,” Jason said in a faint whisper.

“ _Master Bruce,_ ” Alfred said, in a tone so chastising that even Selina squirmed a little.

Bruce’s mouth fell open and he waved a hand uselessly in the air and then put it over his own eyes.

“I want to go back to bed,” he complained, low and worn out. “Or have a drink. Maybe both.”

“Let me leave!” Jason’s whisper was rapidly climbing again.

“Master Jason,” Alfred said gently, stooping slightly and prying Jason’s hands off his face. “Everyone present is reasonably decent and I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding, or I trust Master Bruce himself would have escorted you from the room much sooner.” This was delivered with a sharp, warning glare and Bruce half-shouted his response.

“Of course I damn well would have!”

“Language!” Alfred said mildly and Jason turned his back to them and let his hands drop to his sides.

“Jason, can you _please_ go get some ice?” Bruce sighed, and took Selina’s face in his cupped palm again. There were irregular patches of darkening blood all around her on the sheets. “I _accidentally_ …injured Miss Kyle when she…when I was startled.”

“She surprised _you_?” Jason sounded incredulous, all horror dropped away into plain shock and some awe as he whirled to face them. “Selina, you gotta teach me how to do that.”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Selina agreed.

“No, she will _not_ ,” Bruce argued. “And you will address her as Miss Kyle.”

“Eww,” Selina said. “Bruce, honestly.”

“I’ll get some ice,” Alfred said with a soft sigh. “And I expect to see you all downstairs, for first aid and an assuredly necessary cup of tea. I believe we could all use the time to calm down. And I expect you _properly attired_.”

Bruce was reaching for the folded pajama shirt on the bedside table before Alfred had vanished from view. Selina’s swollen lip had stopped bleeding but it was tender to the touch. Jason fled on Alfred’s heels and was complaining to the older man all the way down the hall and until they were out of earshot.

“I’m guessing he didn’t mean the suit,” Selina ventured, curling her arms around his waist from behind while he buttoned the shirt.

“No,” Bruce made a noise that was almost like a sigh. He sniffled again. “He did not.”

“I could take it off?” she suggested, with a teasing glimmer in her eyes that he definitely couldn’t see.

“I’ll get you something,” Bruce said, craning his neck sharply to look down at her and then relaxing when he caught sight of her face. She pursed her lips in an innocent pout, but it was probably impaired by the swollen side. He winced again and touched it, lightly, with a thumb. “I _am_ sorry,” he added.

“It’s nothing,” Selina said dismissively. “A cat should know better than to sneak up on cagey, armed rodents. Even ones with wings. I’ll stick to more helpless creatures in the future.”

“Selina,” Bruce closed his eyes briefly. “Cat jokes are not helping.”

“Miss Kyle, to you,” Selina said tartly. “Mr. Wayne.”

“Not this again,” he sighed heavily this time and gave her a wry, sideways smirk. “It’s a good thing I like you.”

“Do you?” Selina asked. She perched on the bed again as he rummaged in a dresser full of clothes folded so neatly they looked like they’d just come off a store shelf. “I was wondering, what with the assault and all.”

“Selina,” he said, pained. He handed her a plain gray t-shirt that was long enough to be a cocktail dress on her. “I said I was sorry. I’ll go see if there are any sweats in Dick’s room.”

She was out of the fitted suit and into the shirt by the time he’d returned, holding a small bundle with a remarkably perturbed expression on his face. Well, remarkable for him, anyway. On another man, it might have passed for close to blank absence of emotion.

“What?” she asked.

“I found leggings. In Dick’s top drawer,” he said, handing them to her. “They smell like detergent, so I think they’re clean.

“You found girl’s leggings in your son’s dresser and your first impulse was to _smell them_?” Selina raised an eyebrow in an arch that would have made Alfred proud.

“Not my first,” Bruce said petulantly. “I wasn’t going to offer you _dirty_ ones, though.”

“Calm down,” Selina said, studying the tag. “These are men’s base layer pants. God, Bruce, you really _are_ on edge tonight.”

“They’re pink,” he said, slightly confused. “And purple.”

“And?” she prompted.

“They’re Dick’s,” he concluded with a self-reproachful frown. “I want to go back to bed. I _need_ a drink.”

“I need some ice and a good excuse for this lip,” Selina retorted, pulling on his arm when he started to sit down. “C’mon. Let’s go reassure your son before he’ll never look at you again.”

“Did I mention I had a cold?” Bruce asked, letting her drag him out of the room. “And that I’d _just_ managed to fall asleep?”

“The tea will help,” Selina said, patting the shoulder she’d slapped twice earlier.

“Next time, I’ll come to your place,” Bruce said tiredly. “I’m going to have to sleep with my door open for a month. Jason had _just_ started to come get me when he has nightmares.”

“I’m sorry,” Selina said, meaning it for the first time that evening.

“I’ll talk to him,” Bruce said, shrugging. “He’ll feel better if the rules are clear. I hate leaving my door open, though.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Selina offered, hiding her internal cringe at navigating that conversation. She’d never felt instinctively good at talking to kids, not the way that Bruce could get gentle and serious with them like the flip of a switch. “If you think it would help.”

“You can try,” Bruce said. “But I’ll come to your place next time.”

Selina could take a hint. And it was more than a hint, even without any anger in it.

“Alright,” she said casually. “Will you survive Alfred though?”

“I hope so,” Bruce said, with a half laugh.

They entered the warm, lit kitchen together to be greeted by Alfred’s appraising once-over and Jason’s fierce glare. The kid already had his hands wrapped around a mug of tea and his feet just barely dusted the floor while he swung them back and forth.

“I have school in the morning,” Jason said bitterly, to Bruce. “ _School_ , B.”

“Which is why you’ll be returning to bed as soon as you finish that,” Alfred said.

“Is that tea?” Bruce asked, leaning away from Selina to peer into the mug.

“Warm milk and honey,” Jason answered sourly. “Because I am a _young and impressionable child_.”

The way he said this was more of a rebuke directed toward Bruce and not a complaint against the drink, Selina decided. She hid a smile behind the ice pack Alfred pressed into her hand.

“Master Jason has already been informed that his awakening was a mere accident,” Alfred said, in a small show of mercy. “And he will be asleep again soon.”

“What are you doing in your classes?” Bruce asked, in a clear attempt to change the subject. Selina supposed he knew his son well enough because it worked almost immediately. The kid’s eyes brightened.

“Egyptian history. We’re getting ready for the museum trip next week. Did you know they have a _real mummy_ right now?”

Bruce gave Selina a sidelong glance and it said “don’t you dare” as clear as daylight.

“I have a cat named Isis,” Selina said around the ice pack, ignoring Bruce. If the museum had been misusing anything, he wasn’t going to stop her. And she didn’t think it was a real concern. She’d seen the exhibit, both during and after hours, already.

“Isis is the goddess of marriage,” Jason said helpfully and pointedly, giving Bruce a hard stare.

Selina pressed her sore lips together and watched them try to out glare each other. Alfred was pouring tea and the stream of hot liquid abruptly stopped and then resumed a second after.

“And health,” she added a moment later, taking pity on them both.

“Pity she’s a dead god,” Alfred said, setting tea in front of both Bruce and Selina. “This household could use both of those things.”

Bruce buried his face in the steaming tea and then met Selina’s amused expression. He looked far less amused than she felt. He gulped the tea in a way that said he wished it was something stronger, and she cringed at the idea of how much it must have burnt going down.

“Have you ever been to Egypt?” Jason asked, turning to Selina with none of the ire he’d leveled at Bruce. “B said he’d take me to see pyramids this summer.”

“Once or twice,” Selina said, setting the ice pack down and picking up her tea instead. She leaned closer to Jason and said in a stage whisper, “At least once on your dad’s dime. I stayed in an amazing hotel and ordered room service all week, too. Don’t tell him.”

Jason’s lopsided grin was worth it.

“You stole from him,” Jason said, struggling to condemn the action but failing to sound anything but admiring. She knew a street kid never lost that desire to one-up the upper crust.

“He can afford it, I think,” Selina said.

Alfred cleared his throat.

“That’s your cue,” Bruce said. Needlessly, it seemed, because Jason tipped his mug and drained it before Bruce spoke. “Off to bed, Jay-lad. I’ll drive you tomorrow.”

He couldn’t have said “and we’ll talk” any more plainly, short of actually saying it. Selina did not envy him _that_ ride. Either of them.

Jason hopped off the chair and took his mug to the sink.

“We leave early,” he told Bruce. “I need to use the school library to finish a bibliography. Like, super, _super_ early.”

Bruce opened his mouth and caught sight of Alfred’s face. Selina sipped her tea, the heated ceramic mug warmer than usual on her sensitive lip.

“Make sure there’s coffee and it won’t be a problem,” Bruce said instead of whatever he’d been going to say.

After Jason’s retreating footsteps had died away, Selina laughed openly and pressed a hand over her mouth.

“He loves throwing you under the bus, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” Bruce sighed. “At least he was in a good mood. We wouldn’t have gotten a word out of him if he was actually angry.”

“I’m returning to bed,” Alfred said, rinsing the tea pot as he spoke. “I trust you to act like adults?”

Selina wasn’t sure if this was intended to have a double meaning, but Bruce made a noise like embarrassed laughter and came close to spewing tea on the table. That blush from earlier returned to his ears.

“Lock the bloody door this time, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, as he stopped nearby with his own cup. In Jason’s absence, he sounded as humored as Selina had spent half the night feeling. “I like to believe I raised you with slightly more decorum than this. Don’t disappoint me now.”

“I was asleep!” Bruce exclaimed, setting the mug down a bit too hard. Tea sloshed over the side and he slumped forward, put his head in his hands, and sniffled again. “I don’t even feel well.”

“That, I believe, is foreign emotion called ‘shame’ and you ought to utilize it,” Alfred said, taking a long drink of tea and patting Bruce’s head. “The cold medication is in the cabinet above the sink. I’ll leave this to you, to wash.”

He set the cup down on the table and left.

“Jason has a good teacher,” Bruce said bitterly, slumping forward further to bury his face in his crossed arms.

“I’m sorry,” Selina said quietly. “That I caused such an uproar.”

“No, you aren’t,” Bruce said without looking up. “You like the attention.”

“I do,” she admitted in reply. “I’m sorry it’s at your expense.”

“Stop lying to make me feel better,” Bruce mumbled. “Next time, just wake me up first.”

“I thought next time you were coming to my place?” Selina asked, checking her teeth with her tongue once more. They all seemed to be solidly in place.

“At this rate, after I drop Jason off at school, I might move in for a week,” Bruce said, finally looking up at her. “Just until it dies down.”

“You _did_ traumatize your son and punch a woman in the face,” Selina remarked.

Bruce’s normally controlled expression was a full deer-in-the-headlights stare.

“Never mind,” he said flatly, sniffling. His voice was taking on a faintly nasal, actually congested quality. “I’m going to Metropolis.”

Selina laughed and took the empty mugs. “I’ll start my real apology by taking care of these. Go back to bed, Bat.”


End file.
